


Kindness to Hellions

by Lscholar



Category: Heaven Will Be Mine (Visual Novel)
Genre: ... Halimede is a "cuck", Also a character piece investigating LT/Halimede's failed relationship, F/F, Fingering, Multi, Post MF End, Sex Outside Mechs, Shameless Ideological Destruction, god i cant believe i fucking did this, shitpost, yeah i dont even know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lscholar/pseuds/Lscholar
Summary: Neptune is the principle of acceptance of the depths. Halimede is her ninth moon, named for her brine-salt tears.After the end of the war for Heaven, former Generation Emissary Halimede finds herself on the moon, talking to the woman who stood against Earth about getting back together with their mutual ex.Or: Halimede has to explain to Pluto why, exactly, she came over just to furiously masturbate in a corner listening to the sounds of Luna-Terra getting fucked.Or: "Tiffany shut the fuck up and get out we're going to fuck your wife now"





	Kindness to Hellions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sub_Rosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sub_Rosa/gifts), [because you deserve to also be ashamed for egging me on](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=because+you+deserve+to+also+be+ashamed+for+egging+me+on).



> hazel, rose, this is Your fault. i wash my hands of anything to do with this.
> 
>  
> 
> ;_;

 

 

Mars knows just how to push all the most interesting noises out of Luna-Terra, noises Halimede has never heard before: sharp hitching gasps and soft needy whines and honest-to-god real actual moans.

Halimede hadn’t thought Luna-Terra was even capable of making sounds like that. She’d given up a few months in, after the fifth and a half definite breakup, resigned to the fact that nobody, as far as she knew, had ever gotten more than a mmm or hiss out of her ex, but the fact remains: Mars is fucking Luna-Terra a few feet away from her and Luna-Terra is really Really loud. Halimede clamps her own jaw shut rather than miss any of it. She can feel her whole body throbbing with every shallow slow breath she takes, but she’s not going to make any kind of noise herself.

She’s just going to stay right like she is, sitting silently on the floor, left shoulder pressed into the corner, with her bangs down over her eyes and all her muscles on lockdown, masturbating furiously.

She wants to look so badly, even more than she wants the orgasm she’s been refusing to have for long enough that her hand is sore, but she can’t, or won’t. Even the noises are almost too much; enough that she has to pull her hands up out of her skirt and let her head fall back against the wall and think about getting water. She’s really thirsty but too tired (and invested) to get up.

Pluto sits down next to her with two glasses of water, wearing one of the old pajama tshirts Luna-Terra refuses to ever throw away. She puts one down by Halimede. It’s an invitation: talk to me, if you want!

Halimede has never really had anything to say to Pluto but the water was a nice gesture so she picks it up. She’s drunk half the cup by the time she puts it down, surprising herself with just how thirsty she is.

Even before she was Native Sphere Existential Safety’s Generation Emissary, Memorial Foundation’s Princess, Halimede had a certain kind of poise hammered into her. She shares connections with people like that, like her; who had parents with gravity who expected their children to carry and enforce that weight. Pluto has that poise and more, with none of the training. Pluto suffuses every room she’s in with a natural genuine warmth that Halimede has never gotten past and never wants to because she’s more than a little scared of her. She can’t get past the way she felt when Luna-Terra shot the restraint matrix on the Gravity Well, the capstone on the terraforming of the entire moon, the center of Memorial Foundation’s Gaia-Selenian Initiative, a Culture/space/time singularity strong enough to bring Luna the tiniest bit closer to Terra, and Krun Macula picked it up and held it.

That’s why Pluto scares the shit out of her. Pluto isn’t even her type and she still scares the shit out of her.

“You can keep going, you know. I won’t mind.” says Pluto. “This _is_ an orgy. Toys are in the other room, if you want them.”

“…I know.” says Halimede. “Thanks. for making sure I know. So what brings you here today.”

“Well it’s my house!” says Pluto.

It is her house. It’s also Saturn’s house, and Luna-Terra’s house, but it’s very definitely Pluto’s house. Talking with Pluto is like existing as a ship-self fighting ship-selves in space, where everything is relative to everything else, and then encountering a planet.

Halimede takes a sip of water, trying not to drink it all too quickly. She’s always had trouble reading Pluto because of how simultaneously incredibly intense and relaxed Pluto somehow manages to be, but she thinks she can see a little confusion on that perfect face.

Halimede knows what this is about.

“Luna-Terra’s waiting for you, you know,” says Pluto, with a little concern seeping in around the edge of her voice. “Mars sounds…. mmm I’d say almost almost done. There were a lot of pent up feelings there.”

Halimede knows exactly what she means by that. Her final last breakup with Luna-Terra was messier than the others, in ways she hadn’t been ready for. But Mars and Luna-Terra have changed, or are capable of change, even if they both do the same things they always have together. Halimede feels like she’s changed too, or like she’s incapable of change. Or something.

She’d thought she was done with Luna-Terra, really done for good. She’d gone back to Earth and been miserable for a while and made her way to the Moon and had whole days where she hadn’t even thought about her! And when Pluto had sent her the invitation (when Luna-Terra had wanted to see her again) none of that mattered.

“a lot of pent up feelings” is putting it lightly.

“You haven’t touched Luna-Terra yet.” says Pluto. “If you don’t want to, I don’t want you to either. If you’re having second thoughts but don’t want people knowing I can lock us in the guest bedroom and everyone will assume we’re just having sex!”

“…Thanks.” says Halimede. She means it. It really does help, to have that way out if she needs it. “But I think I’ll stay here.”

There’s the sound of a light smack; Mars tells Luna-Terra to turn over. Luna-Terra’s hisses become breathy little squeaks.

Pluto closes her eyes and cocks her head to listen. Halimede watches her earrings bounce.

“She doesn’t sound like she really cares right now!” she says. “Tell me if I’m wrong though: when she wakes up tomorrow she’s going to wonder how she messed up.”

It’s not a condemnation, and Halimede tries not to take it as one. It’s just a statement of fact, about what Halimede wants or doesn’t want.

“…Probably.” says Halimede. “But she’s a fucking idiot so she isn’t going to know and she’s going to ask me and I’m a fucking idiot so I’ll tell her and everything is going to be a fucking mess. Or she isn’t going to know and she’s not going to ask me, or she is going to know and she isn’t going to ever want me in her life again. If I want to be there. Which maybe I do and maybe I don’t but I want it to be my decision, on my end.”

“I don’t think either of you are that stupid.” says Pluto. “And even if she was, I’d tell her to knock that the fuck off.”

Halimede has never heard Pluto curse before. She’s never gotten to know her and it makes sense to curse there, to push that broken levity back over the line to funny, but it’s still weird. Pluto changed, just like everybody else. Everybody but Luna-Terra.

“Really.” says Pluto. “She’s a lot more mature now. Well, of the two of us, back then, she was the mature one. She kind of hated it! I’m kind of jealous that you got to see her act that way.” She puts up a hand, anticipating Halimede’s response. “She even topped me once!”

“Phbthhhhhhb what” says Halimede, right into her glass of water. “You’re fucking kidding me. She went through the motions and she, she liked seeing me humiliated, but she kept like, doing stuff that was obviously meant to make me able to pull a reversal, which, I am not and never have been interested in, and then I made it into an issue and then there was no chance at all and most of our sex became about me trying to make her admit that she wanted me to make her the one bottoming without admitting it. Ugh. It was a mess.”

“Was it hot though.” says Pluto, like she already knows the answer. Which she, and everyone else in space and maybe even an appreciable fraction of Earth, does.

“Absolutely.” Halimede replies. “But that just made it harder to actually talk with her because she’d start acting like she wanted to be a top to piss me off. I tried pretending myself just to rub it in and nervous breakdowns and “breaking up” and actual breaking up (that didn’t stick I wish it could have) and other people and dragging my aunt into it, not like, in a sex way just as a bludgeon against Luna-Terra because Luna-Terra had always been her worst best student and we’d gotten together to piss her off and I was hoping maybe she could talk some sense into her but that went really fucking badly.” She finishes the rest of her water, suddenly embarrassed; wishes it was alcohol.

“So,” she says, “how’d you do it?”

“She was really bad!” says Pluto. “I’m, mmm, something—someone like a radio. I couldn’t hold everybody’s hopes and dreams and be what they needed me to be, and that was killing me. She told me that the only person I had to be was me, and I told her she couldn’t understand me and she said that she didn’t have to, that she saw that I was hurting and that that was enough. I said that was what I wanted, and she said no it wasn’t. I said that it was meaningless anyways, because my mind was too full of everything and everyone for me to even function, and she said that she would try to help me with that. She was so bad! But for a little while it was just me and her, and she didn’t care how strong I was or how much potential I had or how many people I could save. She tried so hard! And that was what saved me, the fact that she kept pulling at this impossible weight even though there was no way she could ever move it.” Pluto wipes a tear away with the back of her hand.

“You could say it was foreshadowing for the way we used the Gravity Well. But you still haven’t answered the question I never asked. Do you want her?”

“Um.” says Halimede. “Yes and no? It’s complicated.”

Pluto looks like she’s going to ask for clarification, which is fair, but Saturn walks over, totally nude.

“hey” she says. “sup. hows the fucking going”

“Oh!” says Pluto. Her fingers find their ways up Saturn’s thigh like they belong there; press in with just enough pressure that the fat and muscle there bulges a little between them. She’s so casual about that display. Halimede has always had a weakness for casual girls. “No we’re just talking about feelings! Maybe later?”

Saturn grabs Pluto’s hand and hauls it up to her vagina. “She’s so greedy,” Pluto says, by way of response. “She’s stuck pretty much everything in the house up herself! Of course we love and support her but she’s just so insatiable. It’s kind of ridiculous. We love her though!”

Halimede rolls her eyes in what she hopes is a friendly kind of way. She’s kind of absolutely drained. Her entire body is still quivering a little; she’s very aware of how unsatisfied she is and the pulsing warmth under her skirt and the smell of sex in the air. Luna-Terra makes a noise that all three of them know means she’s coming, again.

Saturn turns her attention to Halimede.

“hey” she says. “hey wait are u. omg are u Actually. oh my GOD i know whats going on here this is Incredible”

Halimede wants to die. Well not actually like literally die; she’s been trying to get better about saying things like that, just like, to not exist or melt into the floorboards or not be having this conversation. Also this really turns her on, and also of course Saturn knows it. Saturn is trying very hard not to look smug and failing miserably.

“Hm.” says Pluto. “Don’t leave me out of the loop, bb!”

“no” says Saturn, immediately. “no no no u have to hear it from her. trust me. ur gonna love this tho its exactly the kind of weird shit u think is adorable. im out im gonna go see if mars can make me ahegao”

“You know,” says Pluto, “I’ve never seen you make that ridiculous face during sex! You only ever do it to try to get on our nerves.”

“u just havent fucked me hard enough ;>” says Saturn. “srsly tho mars’ strap game looks insane. have fun explaining That, hali. oh wait u probly will ahahaha bye!”

She turns, poses, and smacks her own ass before she walks off.

Halimede can feel Pluto’s attention swing back to her, gentle and curious and incredibly capable of just, destroying her. Not that Halimede could ever hurt Luna-Terra (not that she hasn’t wanted to, or tried; Luna-Terra is just too oblivious and good at running away).

“So.” says Pluto. “I don’t get it! What did Saturn get that I missed?”

Halimede is mortified and dripping wet at the thought of having to explain herself.

“Um.” she says. “It’s, an earth thing.”

Pluto waits expectantly.

“So you know how, you like. When you get turned on you do dumb stuff.”

“Nope!” says Pluto. “Luna-Terra used to go on and on about that though. She used to say that the only thing she knew was how to let her body take over, and that used to get on my nerves. Luna-T didn’t want to carry everything either; she wanted to lose and be loved anyways and let go of her responsibilities. But it turns out that when we fucked her hard enough to make her feel secure she stopped saying it! She just needed an outlet.”

Halimede tries again. “It’s like, it has to do with, uh, humiliation?”

“Obviously, if you’re dancing around it like that.” says Pluto. “Oh! Is this one of those things where girls want to be called like, whores or traps or have religion read at them for trauma processing?”

“…Kind of?” says Halimede. “But also; kind of, not. …You did the rope work on Luna-Terra right?”

“Mhmm!” says Pluto.

“And, that would still be fun even if you weren’t going to fuck her afterward right? Just like, setting her up and watching Saturn do her, you’d enjoy that, right?”

“Of course.” says Pluto. “I don’t understand why you’re hiding over here, though. You can’t even see her!”

“Right.” says Halimede.

“So is it like blindfolds where it’s sexier because you can’t see her? Can I tell you how she looks or does that make it less hot somehow?” says Pluto.

“… tell me.” says Halimede.

“Sure.” says Pluto. “Luna-T is a hot fucking mess. She’s on her back, hands tied to the headboard, spread open and vulnerable because Mars wants to see her face. You know, they have the same ridiculous fight about nipple clamps every single time? Mars likes to focus on one thing at a time because she feels like otherwise she isn’t trying her hardest. One mission, one point of contact, one girl at a time most of the time.”

“Mhmm.” says Halimede. She can see them in her mind’s eye; Luna-Terra quivering, trying to turn her face away only for Mars to reach up and hold her head in place.

“Luna-T, on the other hand, really likes being touched while she’s fucked!” Pluto replies. “So she always suggests the clamps and then Mars gets all cool, like,” Pluto tilts her head down a little and does a ‘Mars’ voice, “’I’m going to make you forget about that.’ And sometimes she does but other times Luna-T gets bratty and Mars takes that as a challenge. It’s just foreplay at this point. I bought Luna-T a pair but she said no I always made her feel completely cared for right in front of Mars and how do you think that ended hm?”

Halimede points at the bed with her whole hand, palm up. It’s not even a question.

Pluto straightens her back a little. “That’s just how they are! So you’re getting off on this somehow.”

A year ago, a month ago, Halimede would have tried to deny it. But lying to Pluto seems cruel and also useless, and also Pluto already knows.

So she just nods.

“Well, you seem to be enjoying trying to explain yourself.” says Pluto. “I meant what I said earlier; I won’t mind at all. Go on and touch yourself.”

“Is-is that an order,” says Halimede.

“You really were Memorial Foundation, weren’t you.” says Pluto. “It’s a suggestion.”

Halimede’s face burns, and she reaches down—

“Oh! But you probably need lube, don’t you!” says Pluto. “Here, give me your hand,” and when Halimede does she pulls two of Halimede’s fingers expertly into her mouth, deep enough that the fact that she doesn’t gag is impressive, with a perfect gentle suction that would leave Halimede weak in the knees if she had any feeling left there and still manages to leave her breathless.

Pluto’s tongue is very soft.

Pluto sucks a little harder, just to let Halimede know that she likes the taste, and opens her mouth rather than catch any thick saliva on the inside of her lips. It takes Halimede a few seconds to realize that she’s supposed to pull her hand out. Pluto’s breath is hot enough on Halimede’s fingers that the rest of her body feels cold and clammy, tense and aching.

Of course Halimede’s hand goes right up her skirt.

Pluto laughs. “I know how to handle greedy girls. Let me know when you get close so I can pretend to think about giving you permission. Now wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?”

It doesn’t seem important now, but Halimede tries anyways.

“I was always so scared she was going to slip away from me. That’s just the kind of person she is. Or was. I don’t know her anymore and I’m not sure I ever did.”

Luna-Terra shrieks on the bed; Mars doesn’t want her getting too comfortable.

“And that kind of turned me on. Or like, it came to turn me on? I thought about it a lot when I was around her.”

Halimede pulls her bangs out of her face, tucks her hair behind her ears. She takes her time. Pluto listens like she has all the time in the world.

“I knew about you. Luna-Terra was allergic to setting expectations or boundaries, you probably know all about that, but she told me that her relationship with you or whatever it was at that point was non-negotiable. And of course I knew about Mars; the two of them were always going at it. I was proud of how messy it got, of how I made my mark on her like she made her mark on me. We were the big story, and Mars had nothing to do with that. But she was my first love, and I was just a kid, and I wanted to lock it down, and Luna-Terra would never just let herself be caught.”

“She always did have trouble with that.” says Pluto.

“I tried so many things to make her jealous, and then I tried containment. I got straight girls assigned to her flight crew, but they didn’t stay that way. I staffed the repair bay with gay guys and then a few of them transitioned and turned out to be bi, or willing to make exceptions. And then eventually I just kind of started getting off on it, on the idea that she would leave me behind and go fuck other people who knew how to take care of her, like you.”

“And then she left you behind for us.” says Pluto. “Did she even bother telling you beforehand?”

“She left a fucking note. ‘Bye, Hali. It was nice while it lasted.’”

Pluto sucks in air through her teeth. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” says Halimede. “Ouch. I sat in her room smelling her bed and clothes and stuff like a loser; I don’t really want to go into that but you get the picture. I was a total wreck. And then she came back, but not for me. She came back for you, because she didn’t want you dead. The first time I saw her I started crying and she tried to give me a hug and that was just, so over the line? And she didn’t even understand that. I really hated her. We hooked up a few times but I really hated her and god she was so hot. I was so happy, watching her bow her head and actually fucking listen to people tell her things and follow orders most of the time. I sent her pages of messages but she didn’t reply to me until the very last day, when she told me that she wanted to make sure that Earth agreed to the terms of surrender.”

“You’d have to ask her to be sure,” says Pluto, “but I don’t think that’s why she left Memorial Foundation. That was for her, because fighting against her dream was killing her. She left Cradle’s Graces and did what she did on that last day because she wanted to prove that her happiness was strong enough that Earth wouldn’t destroy it. Which. We’re not on Earth, are we; we’re on the moon!”

“Maybe.” says Halimede. “I don’t think even she knew what she was doing.”

Pluto shrugs. “Also very possible.”

“So that’s how it is now!” says Halimede. “I sit in the corner and touch myself and refuse to have orgasms while my ex, who I don’t deserve, gets fucked by incredibly hot women who make me explain to them what I’m doing because I’m so, pathetic and so tainted by Earth, so disgusting, that I want them to realize just how gross I am, Pluto, Pluto I’m, so beneath her; so beneath you. Please Pluto I, please. You’re up in the stars and I’m still down here please just let me have this. I, need permission. I want permission.”

“Hmm.” says Pluto. “No.”

“…ok” says Halimede, meekly. She can feel the tears sliding down her cheeks and off her chin, taste the sea in the corners of her mouth. This is what she deserves. Of course she’s going to leave unsatisfied; of course nobody here wanted anything to do with her anyways. She pulls her hands reluctantly off herself rather than risk disobeying. But then—

“I need permission too.” says Pluto. “Or I want permission, in the same way that you do. Well, not the same way exactly!” She takes Halimede’s hand again, slicking her fingers as she holds it. “Because you have to own this on some level. I’ll finger you if you want, if you convince me you want it, if you’re truly debased enough to give up your self-persecution for pleasure and because I really do want to! I’m curious about what it does to your perfect fantasy hierarchy when the “incredibly hot” woman on the space-high pedestal decides to reach down and fuck you anyway.”

“And,” she continues,”if you just want to squirm, you can.”

“Yes,” says Halimede, “please—“ and spreads her legs.

“Good girl.” says Pluto. “All you Memorial Foundation veterans are so well trained!”

She straddles Halimede’s right leg and pushes her fingers smoothly in, the pad of her thumb making small circles around Halimede’s clit. Halimede whimpers and curls in towards Pluto, around on herself, nestling her forehead in the crook of Pluto’s neck. She’s wound so tightly she feels like she’s going to snap, and it’s probably just the metaphysical interactions but Pluto’s fingers in her feel large enough that they couldn’t possibly actually fit.  

Halimede opens her eyes (she hadn’t realized they were closed) and looks down: it’s just the same two fingers in the same wave-roll rocking motion, steady and gentle, like Pluto’s tapping Babel blocks free and her tower is about to collapse.

“You’ve been holding off for a while, haven’t you!” says Pluto, directly into Halimede’s ear, and then she sticks her tongue out and Halimede jumps, which does very interesting things with Pluto’s fingers inside and on her.

“Not sorry!” says Pluto. “I couldn’t resist.”

Pluto could easily pull her apart, she knows. Even without Krun Macula, even in an Earth-approximate sphere of Culture, Pluto is still the Princess who led her ragtag irregulars against the weight of Earth and only “lost” because she chose to save everyone instead.

But she’s so nice about it. Nobody should be that nice. Nobody could be that nice. “Nobody” is the kind of person that Luna-Terra deserves.

“I’m really not that great.” says Pluto; Halimede realizes she was babbling, or maybe Pluto is just reading narrative directly off her. “I got lucky and wasn’t allowed to fail. That’s all. It’s nice that you think I am, though!”

Pluto rubs with the base of her thumb instead; Halimede can feel the difference immediately, and she tries to push for more contact, but Pluto keeps working her over at the same too-fast too-slow pace. Her other hand dances lightly over Halimede’s back, nails tracing treble-clef lines that distract Halimede just enough that she can’t quite get what she’s been waiting for. The pleasure builds inexorably.

Every little movement threatens to make Halimede seize up. She’s keening, high and shrill; she thought that was Luna-Terra making that noise and then she understood that she hasn’t been thinking about Luna-Terra, or anything that isn’t Pluto, for a while now.

Something inside her is overflowing; fizzing, boiling, straining for release. She’s tense but also somehow liquid, wrapped around Pluto’s solid unwavering fingers.

 _oh._ she thinks. Pluto’s other hand stops its spiraling and pulls her into a hug. _oh._ _I feel, good—_

and then she thinks nothing at all.

 

+++

 

“Wow.” says Luna-Terra from up on the bed. “I didn’t know you were that loud.”

 

+++

 

“She left us because she wanted to save us, and maybe because she wanted to bring that dream back to Memorial Foundation.” says Pluto. “But she also felt like she didn’t deserve happiness.”

“Oh.” says Halimede; “That’s sad,” she says, and means it.

“And what about you?” says Pluto. “Nobody comes back from space unchanged. You’re here on the Moon, not down on Earth. You don’t need to keep being unhappy.”

“…But I’m bad.” says Halimede, on reflex.

“Are you worse than her?” says Pluto. “Seriously?”

Halimede laughs, because that isn’t even a question.

“Oh, did that not make you feel bad?” says Pluto. “Am I doing this right?” and she laughs too. “Let me know when you want to come over again, okay? If you want to just watch, well, Luna-Terra likes that! And if you decide you want to join us up in perfect space Heaven, you’re already here! That’s what the Moon is, isn’t it?”

“Thank you.” says Halimede. “I’d like that. I mean, um, that sounds good.”

They watch the Earth together, far overhead.

                          


End file.
